The Walking Dead (FanFiction) Barlie Harrison's Story (Chapter 1)
by ShannonMMetcalf
Summary: Barlie is your typical twenty year old, southern girl, born and raised in Atlanta Georgia. When it comes to surviving the horrors of the post apocalyptic world, her hunting background is a great trait to have. In this chapter we discover just what she can do when it comes to scavenging and just pure survival. New chars are introduced and even three originals appear. Have fun!
**The Walking Dead**

 **(FanFiction)**

 **Barlie Harrison's Story**

Chapter 1:

Post Apocalyptic Survival

Screaming, that was all I could hear. That mixed with the putrid smell of decaying blood and rotted flesh; it was almost too unbearable. To be honest though, this has become a routine for me. I'd wake up in this dirt covered, filthy, piece of shit mini van; which happens to be my home, I might add. It's been my housing for a couple of years now, at least since the last day humanity existed. Back then… I was just your typical, twenty year old girl, with sandy colored hair and bright blue eyes. I was an avid softball player, believe it or not, despite my looks anyway.

You know… It's honestly typical for people to judge me by the way I look. I know I have the blonde hair; (I always tie it up in a ponytail mind you), and I have a pretty face. My lips are thick; my nose is average size and I have a perfectly rounded face, with a somewhat defined jaw line. My eyebrows are semi-arched and both of my ears are pierced three times apiece. I have perfect teeth, (I just removed the braces a few days before the end of humankind). And I always used to fret about the little bit of fat I have around my hips and belly, but eventually I came to love my imperfections.

I have a pair of long, thick, legs, and all of my skin is just very slightly tanned. I was always a tall girl; my entire life I was. I stand at five feet, eleven inches tall… (I know… I'm a fucking giant!) But this just made my calves and thighs look even that more defined and toned. Also, just so you know, the parts I love about myself the most, are my chest, butt and eyes. I have an amazing rack and my butt always seemed to shock the guys back then. To be honest, the more I think about it, I was a total slut. During those times I was so full of myself and even now… As I sit here and write in this journal, I still sound like I used to.

I love staring at my eyes in the mirror, cause they remind me of the sky, even on rainy days. You know what's weird about today though? I'm sitting here, in this clunky old vehicle and not a single zombie came up to the windows. I would have at least one or two kind of, you know, shamble or stumble on by… I'm not really sure what the correct terminology is for how these things get around, but they walk very slow for the most part. The scary part is when the sun goes down and you can't really see where they are until they're right up an inch or two in front of your face. I've lost count of how many times I've jumped out of my skin when one would slam into the window, making that disgusting growling noise they always make.

It's weird… I swear to you I can understand what they're saying you know? (Also, this is a bit off topic, but if anyone's interested, if anyone ever reads this anyway… I'm wearing the same pair of somewhat tight jeans that I've worn for the last few days now. There's a hole in the right leg, just above my knee, due to my leg getting caught on a jagged part of some dirty old table. My top is just a small white tank top, which ends just a few inches above my belly button. (I should check myself honestly, cause I'm starting to sound full of myself again). Anyway, what was I talking about…? Oh right!

I swear to god and all that is holy, that I can understand what these; what're they calling them these days? I call em' zombies but I think most people around here call them either biters or walkers. I'll call em' walkers then I guess, since that's how the Georgian people are labeling them. So the walkers are saying things, despite the disturbing gurgling sounds that seem to always make my stomach turn. Believe me, I've gotten used to that rotting flesh smell, it's the noises that will always haunt me.

I heard one, clear as day, say the words: "I want brains, can you please give me some of your brains?" … There's a reason I put those dots there… You know, for dramatic effect n' all! But in all seriousness, that's how I felt. I paused for a second when I heard this… this question that the walker gave me. If it hadn't of tried to rip my arm off, I would have actually felt sorry for this thing. But of course, like all other walkers, the damn thing lunged for that space between my shoulder and neck. I was able to kick it off, and shoved my dad's hunting knife deep into its temple.

(Just an F.Y.I. the knife has a stag hilt, polished and wrapped in black leather for a grip. The blade itself is eight inches long, with a jagged part on one side and a very smooth, razor sharp edge on the other. It was painted black to match the handle, which pushed it over the top for me). Even right now, I'm twisting the knife around with the pointed end rotating on my leg. (Don't worry, I'm not pushing on it or anything, so it's not drawing any blood, how stupid do you think I am?) Had it not been for all of that blood that I smeared over this vehicle, it would have probably been run over by now.

One day; I think it was just this last Saturday… I don't know, it was a few days ago regardless! I was out, scavenging for supplies, hoping that the store down a few blocks wouldn't have been ransacked, and I was right! There was a Wal-Mart there, thank god it was a super center, and for the most part, it was filled to the brim with food. I found dried fruits, cans upon cans of vegetables and of course my favorite, raspberry zingers. (Don't judge me… I see the way you're reading this, if you are anyway. I like me some snacks like Hostess and I ain't ashamed of it either).

Despite this… Yes I'm eating one right now by the way. Like I said, despite this tidbit of personal info, I scavenged some other things too. After two years of living on my own, I learned to pick up odds and ends. Things like random matchsticks that still had the flint on them, some miscellaneous pieces of thread, needles that I picked up from my travels; things like that. The one thing I've always remembered to look for was some arrows to replenish my bow. (You heard that right, I'm an archer!) I've been bow hunting for years, ever since my daddy taught me and I'm pretty damn good at it too!

The bow that I use was the last one that he bought me before this outbreak. It's a high powered, Fever RH PSE Purple Rain colored bow. It can shoot up to over fifty feet, which is an amazing way to keep these monsters away from me. I cherish this thing as if it were a child of mine. I have an amazing assortment of arrows, ranging from regular smooth tip to a more jagged edge, which is better for shooting at human enemies rather than these walkers. If I were to shoot at them with this arrow, I'd never get it back.

So I usually stick to the smooth tipped arrows for them. What others do I have…? (I'm sorting through the bag right now… Ah, here we are!) I have at least twenty regular tipped arrows, wrapped with a very thin layer of cloth which I dipped in alcohol. (I use these for flame arrows. Yes, my daddy taught me about survival amongst other things, so don't act all shocked when or if you read this, whoever you are. The last types of arrows I have are custom ones, where I added some bits of nails which I bent towards the feather of the arrow. It's a sort of makeshift barb, that makes it incredibly hard to pull back out without cutting it.

It's sort of like the factory made ones, but this life hack, so to speak, allows me to make at least twice as many barbed arrows as the store found ones. Now that I'm off that tangent about this fascinating weapon, (by the way I apologize for the over excessive use of that a word. I was frantic, and just kept writing as I looked around, so I'm sorry). Anyways, I found a sort of mini generator. It's amazing to be honest; it's small, at least small enough to carry with one arm. It weighs about fifteen pounds, and it has a hand crank. I've tested it, just to see how long it would go, and about ten good spins would give it a lifespan of eight hours.

Before I came back to my home, I decided to grab some odds and ends, you know… for my entertainment. I found a portable DVD player, which ran off of rechargeable batteries. Lo and behold, little old crank here, made sure it was always functional. I also got a nice pair of beats headsets, which coincidentally, were still in their original boxes at the store. I figured it was best to find some movies that could lighten my spirits, so I rummaged through the three dollar bin that they had and found some amazing classics!

Nutty Professor one and two were in there, Thirteen Ghosts, (Yes, I still watch horror despite the nightmarish life I'm in, like before, don't judge me). There was Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and When Nature Calls, The Longest Yard remake, the Scream series, believe it or not! ß (That made me super happy!) Amongst all the food I found, I was also able to find a ton of drinks, including my favorite: Pepsi! I was in my glory when I saw all of those cases.

I decided to grab a cart, right? I added a bit of cloth to the inside of it to muffle the sounds that the items would make, and it worked! SO… I filled all of my items in and was on my way out the door, when something caught my eye. I had already exited the building and was three quarters of the way across the parking lot when I caught a glimpse of people. Now, I always keep my daddy's knife on me at all times and for some reason, I thought it'd be best to bring my bow and at least fifteen arrows with me. Thank god that I did, because they saw me.

It was a weird bunch of people, with one guy that had a long thick black beard, thick eyebrows, and a bald head. Tattoos covered the man's arms and a nose ring was hanging down, glistening in the sunlight. There were these massive leather wrappings around his fists and forearms as well. I could tell that he had been walking for a while since his grayish muscle shirt had been drenched. Behind him were two girls, both of which had knives of their own. The girl on the right was sporting very short brown hair, and a small face with thin lips and a sharp nose. Her skin was as pale as a ghost, contrasting perfectly against the tattoos covering her arms and thighs. It amazed me to be perfectly honest with you.

I'm surprised she wasn't sun burnt with all this Georgia heat n' all. Anyway, the girl to the right had this very long, red hair which had been braided and ran down her back. Her cheekbones were relatively high and she has a long face. Her arms were relatively built as well; chiseled even, and her skin was very lightly tanned, like mine. The thing that drew me in the most was those bright green eyes that she had which locked onto mine. Both of these girls were wearing short, tight shorts, sneakers and muscle shirts like the man in front. That's when I realized just how close this man was to me. I could see the sweat beading on his face and actually caught a glimpse of a scratch running across his right eye.

He had a pair of baggy jean pants on and the biggest set of work boots I've ever seen. The way that his nose was bent, and how his left earlobe was ripped in half, just kinda sent me into a frenzy. I was scared, nearly shaking in my shoes as I stood there. I could feel my heart beating into my throat at this time, and didn't even realize that my hands were all jittery, until I took a second to try and clear my mind. "Who are you?" I asked them. The man just grunted and kept walking towards me. "I said who are you?!" I yelled, attempting to put a threatening undertone to my voice.

(It failed obviously and I'm shaking even now, as I'm all alone in this small closed in space). The man finally stopped when I heard a female voice from behind these three people. The woman sounded very stern but calm at the same time. There was a sort of authority to it; an edge that seemed to halt the beast before me in his tracks. He stood there, just a couple of feet from me, breathing super heavy. I actually kinda felt sorry for the guy. I mean, he looked like he had been walking for hours, judging by all that perspiration. It was at this time, I could hear a set of footsteps from behind him.

There was quickness to them and yet she stepped with a sort of rhythm. Almost like how a model or even a business woman would walk. "Nalone, stand aside please." the woman stated. (I'm telling you now, my heart could have popped straight outta' my mouth at that time, but back to the story). The man slid to his right, and revealed a very beautiful, chocolate colored skin woman. She had the sexiest, thickest lips I've ever seen in my life, and I thought mine were hot… (They have nothing on this woman). She wore her hair back in a ponytail, like I do, except it as strung above the rest of her hair.

There was an almost almond shape to her head, with a defined chin, rounded forehead and a slight chubbiness to her cheeks. Her nose seemed to bloom around the nostrils and her eyes, oh my god! Her eyes were gorgeous, mimicking that of a perfect shade of caramel. I wanted to just get lost in that sea of sweetness with each passing second. (Just another F.Y.I. in case you hadn't noticed, I'm bisexual. Granted, women kinda turn me on quite a bit, but guys still flip my trigger so to speak. It just depends on who that guy is. But women always seem to make me go internally wild… I swear… Oh! Back to the story!)

Anyways, this woman had curves like Nicki Minaj. Her butt was so huge and so defined, and it made her legs look even sexier. The way that those skin tight shorts hugged her thighs, only accentuated her shape. She had a pair of black combat boots on, and a tied up dark brown shirt, that showed off the most perfect belly, ever! Her belly button was pierced, and there was a set of tattoos on either side of it. Both of which were from that of a baby. "My name is Nelly Lockes. I'm the leader of this here group and I couldn't help but see you exiting that store there." "Yeah." I said to her. I didn't know what else I could possibly add, since all of my confidence seemed to be quickly running down the drain.

If it weren't for that Nalone guy, I would've been a bit less on edge. It was just the way that he kept looking at me, and I don't mean to sound condescending or anything, but he kept his eyes locked on my chest. Granted, the heat was making my boobs sweat quite a bit, so it must have looked pretty hot right at that moment, but I still felt uneasy. "Allow me to introduce my crew here. You've already heard me say this man's name," Nelly stated with her hand raised to the bearded beast. Weirdly enough though, the man nodded at me respectfully and even started looking towards other things. (That's an odd amount of respect and manners coming from a monster of a man like that).

"To my left here is Nata, pronounced Nay-da. And to my right is Victoria. I'd like to first apologize for the monstrous approach we had on you. I know that with these days being the way they are, one shouldn't have to deal with two different types of monstrosities." (Again, I was taken aback by the etiquette demeanor that poured off of this woman. Though it did seem more likely to come from her than that guy). "Hey. My name's Barlie, spelled with an I-e, not the usual way." I replied to them. I think the way that I explained my name, kind of clicked well with Nelly, cause she smiled seconds after this statement.

"What're you doing all alone out here in the post apocalyptic wastes of Georgia?" She had been holding onto her hips, which drew my attention to this gun she had on her waist. It was a shiny pure metal magnum-like revolver, and was at least eight inches, with six being in the barrel alone. (I couldn't quite get a good look, to make an accurate depiction though).

Currently, Nalone and the two girls were rummaging through my cart of stuff, but they never took anything. In fact, they looked at me, and then Nalone started pulling out food of his own. He even withdrew an entire pack of Powerade and it was my favorite kind too! That blue kind, you know? I can't really think of the name, but I love that flavor and he slipped it into my cart. It was then that he withdrew something, like about five cans of carrots. He even gazed into my eyes, waved the hand full of cans, and I nodded in return. The man actually smiled at me after sliding the food into his sack.

"That's what I'm talkin' about! You see…" Nelly got really close to me, following her words, leaving only a small two inch gap between us. I could actually smell her aroma and it was pretty damn amazing, if I say so myself! A mixture of lime, lemon and orange seemed to cascade across my nostrils, with only a tad hint of body odor. "Most people would assume that Nalone here is just some mindless animal that wants to tear them to pieces, but that's not the truth." The woman had her hands on my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes, which felt like they were piercing my soul.

"We've never killed anyone who didn't deserve it girl, you'd do best to remember that." And with that, she snapped her fingers and the group was off. The two girls stayed behind Nalone whilst their leader hid behind them. They were already halfway across the lot, when Nelly turned and smiled at me. I returned the gesture, nodding all the while. And that was that, journal! My first day in a while that I actually met other survivors. I can't really blame the others for stinking though, because it's hard for us to actually bathe.

Even using the river to clean myself, feels disgusting just thinking about it. I fear that if I go down there, I'd accidentally get some walker blood in my mouth, from one of the strays caught on a tree or something. The next thing I'd know, I'll begin coughing up blood, and my skin starts to rot. I'd prefer to stay away from that, so instead, I take some containers and fill them with the river water. I then boil them on a hot plate I acquired from one of my scavenges, and distill it. Once I have enough to bathe, I fill up this old metal tub I found, and clean myself. Of course I make sure to set up a perimeter, so that I'll know when the walkers are coming.

I'm going off on a tangent here, so I'll bring myself back to the original story. There was something odd about how that gun was holstered to Nelly's side. It didn't look like it was a good fit, seeing as the majority of the barrel was sticking out. And what person, especially with the fact that it looked so clunky on her, would want that kind of kickback? I'm just pondering on the amount of recoil that a giant gun like that would produce. I would have to imagine that someone would have to have very specific training in order to brace their arms for it.

I'm not saying that Nelly didn't look fit enough to handle it; no, not at all! I'm merely trying to point out that I'm putting two and two together here. The way that the holster tried its hardest to hold that gun straight, and just the way Nelly would look so awkward when touching her hips. It appeared as if she wasn't used to the weapon hugging her like that, or being with her at all. It just looked weird, you know? It was plain, weird. I don't know what else to say, Journal.

My eyes are burning and my legs and arms are so tired. All I wanna do is sleep, and that's what I may do now. Don't worry about the windows, I've already barred them over time so this stationary vehicle is like a sitting tank. The only way the walkers could even get to me, was if someone ripped the door off themselves. Even then; even _if_ the walkers get in on their own, I have this grating mounted into the back seats here. There's a door which I lock on my side that adds an extra amount of protection. The back door has been welded shut by me, after I found a small blow torch a few weeks back.

Like I told you, I'm a hunter. I can hide in the shadows, stalking my prey all day long if I have to. I make sure that my perimeter is covered, and that absolutely no one can get to me. After these couple of years, it's all a survivor can do really. I'm beginning to ramble here, so I'll cut this entry off now. I just wanted to say, to whomever reads this, that I know what it means to make it in this new world. If you happen to read this journal, or even glance at it before getting to me, just give me a chance. I'll prove that I have what it takes to help you and myself. Until the next entry then.

Signed:

-Barlie Harrison

*Six Hours Later*

A rustling of leaves, and the snapping of twigs jarred Barlie out of her slumber. She glanced out one of the side back windows, towards the homemade sundial she set up. According to the morning light, it was already six thirty. Followed by the snapping of twigs, numerous amounts of voices could be heard. One of which sounded sort of whispery, and had a thick southern accent. "Are you sure she's hiding in there?" he asked. A kinder male voice replied, shortly after a few seconds of silence. "Yeah. I know she's there because I've seen her slip into the mini van at least a couple of times." Barlie cupped a hand over her mouth, watching with complete horror, as these shadowy figures appeared just outside the middle left window. Seconds later there was a tap on the glass, making a shudder run down her spine. All of her sweat had become cold, causing every inch of her skin to feel clammy.

"We know you're in there, so come on out. We're not goin' to hurt you. We just want to talk, that's all." It was the whispery man's voice again. "Judging by the way that these bars are held on, and that the back door's welded, I'd say she's been here for a very long time." This voice was different. It peaked her interest, just the slight raspy undertone seemed to set her off a bit. Even though the man sounded stern, his voice calmed her, which made the first man sound even better. "She's got that survival instinct, I'll give her that." the whispery voice stated.

He sounded impressed, making the fear ebb away a bit from Barlie's aching chest. This time, the kinder voice took over, as he peered through the window opposite of her. "Please, come on out. I promise you we won't hurt or even touch you, just as long as you come out peacefully. I know this may not mean much, but I have a wife back at our campsite. We've all been through some hell, and we're just looking for survivors, that's it." Barlie took a deep breath, then composed her thoughts. _I don't know what to do, but they have me surrounded. I might as well at least respond._

"H-Hello?" she called out. All around her was a slight silence, almost too much of it. The whispery voice spoke again, but this time he was calmer and more collect. "Hello. My name is Rick Grimes. I'm a former sheriff of Atlanta Georgia, and these two men here with me are Glenn and Daryl. We've been scouting these parts for quite some time now and Glenn spotted you clambering into this makeshift home; I assume you heard though." "Let me introduce myself." the raspy like voice stated. Barlie saw Rick's shadow waving towards the window, and then a new one appeared.

Just by seeing his silhouette, she was intrigued. He had scraggly hair, and he looked sort of built, but slightly lanky as well. "Like Rick said, my name's Daryl; Daryl Dixon. I couldn't help but notice that weld job you did back there; it's pretty damn good. Anyway, we're only here to help, just come out calm and don't show any threatening movements alright?" Barlie was beginning to feel a bit hot, from the sheer sound of this man's voice. These people were behaving nicer and nicer by each passing second, which was giving her confidence to emerge. With hope in her heart and for humanity's sake, Barlie began fumbling with her lock, with a bright smile written across her face.

Chapter 2:

17


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